Pulse
by toadstoolcouch
Summary: Jim/Molly.  Set before the Great Game, while Jim and Molly were dating.  The two spend a night in.  Warnings: it gets slightly dark for a moment


Molly and Jim were sitting together on her couch that night after work. Molly had actually considered going to bed soon after she got home, until she got a text from Jim. He didn't mind that she was tired and wanted to stay in; in fact he loved the idea and even brought over some pillows and DVDs. They were on the fourth, or perhaps fifth, episode of Britain's Got Talent (Jim brought a whole mess of DVDs like this and let Molly choose), and it was terribly late, but Molly was so glad she didn't go to bed.

They were exceedingly comfortable, leaning against each other and sharing a big plastic bowl of popcorn that rested on top of their legs. The show really wasn't that funny, but Jim laughed anyway, usually with a mouth full of popcorn muffling the sound, which made Molly laugh at him in return.

After a while Jim got up, taking the now empty bowl. He shot a quick, sweet smile to her as he went to deposit it in the kitchen. Molly was still watching the show when he casually returned and leaned over, propping himself on the back of the couch with his elbows. And though nothing funny was going on in the show, Jim suddenly giggled. Molly turned slightly and looked up at him.

"What is it?" she asked with a smirk.

"Oh, it's nothing," he answered, his face taken over by a seemingly uncontrollable grin. But it didn't take much for Jim to relent and lean a little closer to Molly to say, "It's just something I thought about just now. It's silly..."

Molly shifted in her seat to better face Jim and laughingly prodded, "Come on, tell me!"

"Well, I was just thinking about how the human body seems to be, well, equipped with natural weapons." He stood up straighter and brought his hands to the center of his chest to display them. He turned them, palms up, then closed them into fists. But before Molly could respond, he relaxed his hands and made a dismissive gesture with one of them. "I don't know, I'm just being silly..."

"No, I see what you mean," Molly protested eagerly. She gently took one of Jim's hands in both of hers and closed it back into a fist. She bit her bottom lip as she glanced back up at him.

Jim cast his eyes downward and put on a shy but appreciative smile. He allowed her to keep his hand a bit longer as he continued, "Well, good. I don't want to sound morbid, but it makes sense when you think about it. How...versatile the hands are. Even bare, or empty, they're just perfect for defending yourself." He slipped his hand free and slowly stepped behind Molly. He lightly placed both hands at the base of her neck and slid them, just barely touching, up and around her throat. His fingertips rested ever so slightly against her skin. He felt her trachea nudge forward when she swallowed. "They were made to kill, don't you think?"

Molly was still facing where Jim had been standing; now that he was directly behind her, she couldn't see his face. She was going along with this little joke with a lopsided smile, but she was starting to grow tense. "Well, I guess I'd never thought about it that way..."

Jim bent over a bit, bringing his face to the side of Molly's. At such close proximity, all Molly could focus on was a pair of large, slightly bloodshot eyes staring hard into hers. "Actually, now that I think about it, it's not so much that hands are made to kill," he said, his voice much softer now. One hand slowly stroked Molly's neck up and down, while the other maintained its gentle, but unrelenting grip. "But that your neck fits so perfectly in them, like it was made to."

Her pulse hammered beneath his fingertips. Her chest moved up and down in quick, shallow breaths as Jim's fingers began to press down, ever so slowly, around her neck.

But just as the pressure turned to pain, Jim released her neck and drew back. When Molly turned around, she saw him half-hiding a goofy smile behind one hand and heard him break out into a nervous laugh. She put a hand to where Jim had held her, but immediately relaxed as Jim clasped his hands together and pressed them against the sheepish smile on his face.

"I'm so sorry!" he laughed, and looked so embarrassed with the blush on his cheeks and his eyes gazing at everything but her face, that she easily forgave him. She gave Jim a playfully reproachful look and gestured for him to sit back down.

"Just trying to make a joke, I suppose," he said as he plopped down next to Molly.

"A rather morbid one!" Molly teased, leaning a little closer to him. She made a little sound of delight when he pressed a sharp little kiss against her cheek.

"Says the girl who spends all day at the morgue."

"Oh, not _all_ day!" she laughed.

With Jim's encouragement, Molly shifted in her seat to lean against the front of his shoulder, while he slid his arm behind her back. He drew his hand up to rest at the base of her neck, his fingers ghosting around the front. The sensation of her slowing, warm pulse gently teasing his fingers made him smile.


End file.
